


Genderfluidity in a Shifting World

by shnuffeluv



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Coming Out, Coming of Age, Gen, Genderfluid Character, I'm Not Ashamed, Kid Mycroft, Kid Sherlock, Mycroft-centric, Puberty, Shapeshifting, Work In Progress, but I am insecure, genderfluid shapeshifters what more do you want???
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 03:24:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7668265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shnuffeluv/pseuds/shnuffeluv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft is 3 when he realizes that not everyone feels like a boy one day and a girl the next. But she finds this really confusing. I mean, because everyone can change how they want to look just by thinking about it, logically that should mean gender isn't a big deal. Right?<br/>Wrong, apparently.<br/>But that won't stop Mycroft from being true to himself. A dress here, a suit there, and a little combination of the two separating the formal wear in her closet, she will grow up and find out that there is room for both her and him to share one body, even if at some points he can't Shift to suit her needs. And maybe, if both he and her are lucky and keep their eyes open, they can find a spot in life that was made for two sides of the exact same coin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Genderfluidity in a Shifting World

Mycroft giggled as he ran into Mummy's room. The 3-year-old was feeling like being pretty today, rather than handsome like everyone called him yesterday. He didn't know why, just that he did. He opened Mummy and father's closet with some difficulty, the knob being so high he had to practically stand on his tip-toes to reach it. When the door opened and he could see his choices clear as day, he sat down on the ground and considered. Mummy's dresses were far too big for him to wear, but he did want to wear a dress. Maybe Mummy's blouses would be long enough? Mycroft pulled on the hem of a lavender colored one and it slid off the hanger into his hands. He stared at it in reverence for a moment. Then, noticing all the buttons were done already, he giggled and pulled it over his head with some difficulty.

It took him a minute to find the right hole for his head to go through, but he managed to put the blouse on, and the right way front on the first try! He looked at the bottom of the closet. Mummy's heels! Those always made her look super pretty and tall! He slid his feet into them the best he could and clopped his way to the ensuite bathroom. Once there, he opened the cabinet under the sink. This was the easy part. He got to put on some of Mummy's makeup like she always would in the morning. Though he couldn't see the mirror, he didn't think it would be too much of a problem.

The first thing he found in the bag was lipstick. He recognized it easy, and ran it over his lips the best he could. He put the cap on and placed it beside the bag so he'd know he used it already. Then he found some pink powdery stuff that made Mycroft cough when he sniffed it. He thought...maybe Mummy used this on her cheeks, so he took the big brush that came with it and rubbed it on his cheeks before putting it aside. He frowned. What else was there in the bag that he could use...?

"Mycroft! What are you doing here with my makeup?!"

Mycroft looked up into the stunned face of Mummy. "I wanna be pretty, Mummy," he said simply.

His mother bent down to the ground and picked up the makeup he had been using, dropping it in the bag and then placing the back out of reach of the little boy. "No!" Mycroft yelled, reaching up for the counter that was a good 30 cm above his head.

"Mycroft," Mummy said sternly, giving him a warning.

The boy pouted. "But Mummy! I want to look pretty!"

His mother sighed and picked him up, carrying him to her bed. "Stay put," she ordered, as she went back into the bathroom.

When she came back with a wet towel, Mycroft shook his head, desperate. "No, Mummy! No!"

She sighed and pinned down her squirming son, wiping his face clean of makeup. When she was done with that, she sat down next to Mycroft on the bed. "Myc, I need you to look at me."

Mycroft shook his head and swiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. "Myc, please. Look at me a minute so we can talk."

He looked in the opposite direction of Mummy and huffed. She sighed. "Mycroft, why were you getting into Mummy's makeup?"

Mycroft shook his head and sighed in that way that adults said made him sound like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. "I already said," he mumbled.

"You said you wanted to be pretty," Mummy said. "But what does that mean?"

Mycroft rubbed his eyes, trying to get rid of the tears falling freely down his face before he looked at Mummy. He was supposed to be a big boy, and big boys didn't cry over not getting their way. "I wanted to look like you," he admitted, sniffling. "I wanted to look pretty, and you're super pretty, so I jus' thought..."

His mother tutted. "Oh, Mikey, sometimes it's hard for me to remember you're only 3, did you know that?"

Mycroft looked over at Mummy for the first time during the whole conversation. He shook his head.

"I know you didn't mean to make a small mess on your face, you were just exploring, the way any kid your age would do," Mummy said. "You always carry yourself like you're an adult, though, and then I tend to forget that while you want to be an adult, you're still my little boy."

Mycroft scowled at the word little. "I'm 3, Mummy, I'm not little anymore."

His mother laughed. "Oh, I know. But to me you'll always be my little boy."

When Mummy hugged him he felt his stomach twist uncomfortably. Not because he didn't want the hug, he very much wanted that hug, but because she had called him a boy. he didn't really  _feel_  like a boy today. That was why he wanted to be pretty instead of handsome. But he wanted to be good, so he didn't say anything about it and hugged Mummy back. "I love you, Mummy," he said.

"I love you too, Myc. Now, how about I get that blouse off you and we can play dress-up another time when I know what you're doing first?"

That sounded okay. Mycroft nodded. "Can we do 'sper'ments in the backyard?" he asked.

His mother laughed. "Oh, of course, sweetheart."

* * *

There was clinking of silverware that night around the dinner table, but not as much of the usual chatter coming from Mycroft. His father noticed this, and put down his silverware, instantly attracting the attention of Mycroft because of the unexpected movement. "So, how was your day, Myc?" he asked.

Mycroft shrugged. "Okay."

"Just okay?" Daddy asked.

Mycroft nodded, and went back to his chicken fingers and chips. It was the latest food he found he rather enjoyed, and didn't require any condiments _or_ help eating. Consequently, he had it for dinner or lunch at least twice a week, because he'd always ask for some sort of food that didn't require another person's help to eat. "I did some 'sper'ments in the backyard. Did you know that tennis balls float in water?"

"Do they?" Daddy asked.

Mycroft nodded. "And rocks can skip across the water! Though I can't make them skip well, Mummy can!"

His father looked over to Mummy. "Yes, I remember when we were younger, and we'd go out and skip rocks all the time. We'd have competitions to see who could make them skip the most, and she always won."

His mother smiled. "Oh, we both know that even if you had a chance you would always  _let_  me win."

Mycroft stuck another chip in his mouth and when he swallowed, said. "I also dressed up today."

"Did you? In my clothes or Mummy's?" Daddy asked.

"In Mummy's," Mycroft said. "I decided that today I wanted to look pretty, and Mummy is the prettiest person ever!"

"That she is," Daddy chuckled. "What made you think you wanted to look pretty today?"

Mycroft shrugged. "I just woke up and thought, 'Everyone calls me handsome. I want to be called pretty today.'"

His father nodded. "And...is this the first time that's happened?"

Mycroft shrugged. "Dunno. It's the first time I've really wanted to do something to be called pretty. But sometimes getting called handsome gets real old."

His father laughed. "Good to see you haven't changed, Myc."

Mycroft continued to eat, sensing the conversation had been exhausted. When he was done, he stuck his thumb in his mouth out of habit. "Mycroft, your thumb," Mummy reminded.

"Mmf," Mycroft removed the digit from his mouth. "Sorry. May I be excused?"

His father nodded. "But only to the living room until your mother and I are done."

Mycroft slid off his chair and walked out of the room and over to the small bin of toys kept in the corner for nights such as this. He pulled out one of the stuffed dolls he had and a race car, figuring he could make the doll a super fast driver. That was, until he heard his name from the dining room. Mycroft walked close to the door frame, but was careful to be next to it rather than behind it and risk getting caught. "I just don't know, Siger. What do we do about this? I've never heard of anything like it before!" Mummy exclaimed.

"Well, you have to remember that Mycroft has never been a normal child. Perhaps he's a little slower in his development in this area. Or maybe he's so far ahead he just ignores stereotypes he sees everywhere. We can't know for certain, but it doesn't seem to harm him," Daddy rationalized.

" _Now_ ," Mummy said. "But what happens when we send him off to school? And what about when we have visitors when he's old enough to be considered in a conversation? You know as well as I do that his filters have something lacking. I don't want him to get bullied!"

Mycroft heard Daddy sigh, and could practically see him scratching his eyebrow with one finger. "You don't suppose he's transgender? We could see if he prefers being a girl when we teach him how to Shift, and we've been meaning to do that anyway."

"I'd love him just as much if he wound up being my daughter, but I'm not sure that's it either," Mummy sighed. "But, I suppose we should take his word for it before jumping to conclusions. Mycroft? Can you come in for a second?"

Mycroft walked in guiltily. His mother sighed. "Were you eavesdropping again?"

"I heard my name," Mycroft admitted. "I like to know if I'm being talked about."

"Well, we have something we'd like to talk to you about, sweetheart," Mummy said. "If you could sit down at the table, this is important."

Mycroft, feeling a dread in the pit of his stomach, climbed up his chair and sat down.

"Now, Mycroft, you're not in trouble," Daddy said when he sat down. "We decided we should talk to you about Shifting."

"Shifting? Like...what they talk about on TV, right?" Mycroft asked. "In that one show, with the talking dog that had a squeaky voice?"

"Yes, but it's not  _quite_  like they portrayed it on the show," Daddy said.

"Well,  _obviously_ , the weird backgrounds and all that weird color stuff flying from their bodies when they Shifted was  _so_  fake," Mycroft sighed.

His father nodded. "But, you  _can_  Shift, even if it doesn't look like it does on TV." To demonstrate, he bent his fingers back at a 45 degree angle. "See, it can be things as simple as making yourself double-jointed, or as complicated as changing your sex."

Mycroft blinked. "You can do that?" he asked. "Anyone can, I mean? I could if I tried and practiced?"

His mother nodded. "Mikey...do you want to be a girl?"

Mycroft looked over to her and worried his lip. "I...? Do I have to be one or the other?"

A silence hung over the table as Mycroft waited for an answer and his parents gave each other  _the look_. The  _our-son-sure-is-something_  look. "Yes, Myc, you have to be one or the other. There are intersex people out there, but even they have a tie to feeling like either a boy or a girl."

"Oh." Mycroft looked down at the table, frowning.  _A complication_. "Well...I like being a boy, but I also like maybe being a girl. I guess...if I have to be one or the other, then I just don't care about which I am, 'cause I'll still be me underneath. Can I be a boy who looks pretty some days and handsome others?"

"If that's what you want, then I'm sure we can figure something out," Daddy said.

Mycroft smiled. "Okay! Then that's what I'll be. Can I learn how to Shift? It sounds really important."

"Well, Shifting is different for everyone, and every person has different little tricks they use to get it done, so we can try some basic ones to see which works for you, but after that we should probably get you ready for bed," Mummy said. "Let's do something easy that you can notice. How about you add some freckles to your hand?"

Mycroft looked down at his arms and groaned. "Don't I have enough freckles already?"

"You can get rid of them as soon as we figure out how you Shift, Myc. Okay?"

Mycroft sighed and nodded. He looked at the back of his hand and frowned. How would one put freckles on a surface they weren't on before? He could almost  _see_  the design of them, like little constellations from his newest favorite book Daddy would read to him at night. There was a stinging in his hand, and the image in front of him matched the image he had in his mind. He blinked, and wiggled his fingers. The freckles stayed put. "Woah," he breathed. "I did it!" He waved his hand above the table. "I did it!" He examined his hand. "Do I do the same thing to change it back?"

His father nodded. "Whatever you did to change it, you can do in reverse to change it back."

Mycroft focused on his hand being freckle-free, and smiled when the transformation was done. "Cool! I could use this in all sorts of different ways!"

His mother chuckled. "Yes, you can, Mikey. But for now it's time to get ready for bed. You can practice more tomorrow, okay?"

Mycroft nodded. That sounded fair. His parents  _had_  just taught him something that would change his life. He figured he should do something without complaint for once in his life as thanks.

He couldn't wait to practice tomorrow.


End file.
